Academy of Arms!

For a few moments Ireland stared at Tatsukei. She recognised him from the fight earlier and despite her earlier heroism she had no idea what to say now- it was ridiculous really, she was an Elite and during weopans training- or a fight- she didn't mind standing up and displaying her skill with her weopan yet she always clammed up around strangers when it came to good ol' talking.
She realised she should say something and, with a gesture for him to sit down, she cleared her throat,
"Hello," she replied, "My full name's actually Ireland Frost- it's a bit stupid really, being named after a country, but i-"
She stopped realising she was babbling and smiled, laughing inwardly at herself.
"Anyway, my weopans are knives- any kind, but I prefer Cretan knives. Here."
Ireland offered him one of her knives, turning it as she did so to show off the silver of its polished surface.
 
Emil remained indifferent as Lance spoke, but still flinched slightly at the sound of the axe slamming down. He was thankful that Lance repeated himself, but gave no indication of such. After a brief moment, he grasps the blunted scythe and takes it in his hands, feeling slightly awkward. "Incident? What do you mean by an 'Incident'?" He asked somewhat curiously. He held the scythe and tried to get used to the feel of it.

Emil thought back to his brother for a moment, remembering Mike and all his video-games. He remembered his brother playing some fighting game, and one of the characters used a scythe. He thought about how the guy held the scythe, then felt like a moron for actually thinking a video-game would get something right.

What did Sis always say? "Ask for help when you need it, whether or not it truly betrays your position..." And then she'd smack me for not asking for help. Sorry sis, not going to work this time unless I... Make a fool of myself. That'll happen whatever I do.

"Uh, and how exactly do you hold this thing, exactly? I've never actually seen someone use a scythe as a weapon of war." Emil could already feel like he'd made a mistake asking for help. Oh the wonderful, painful irony. Nonetheless, he felt it was a proper question considering the circumstances.
 
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Georgia had to admit, the guy had guts. He had some big balls thinking he could just waltz over to her and her weapon and pick it up like it was nothing. He did just that, too! Of course, there was a tad bit of strain when he went to lift it but strain was expected. If anything, Georgia thought her face would intimidate him more than the weight of her ax. She didn't look like the girl one would easily approach and talk to. It was obvious on that day than most! The fact that she was ready to chop people up during breakfast must have spelled it all out to the entire class and some people in the rest of the school. This Brant guy, on the other hand, only looked interested.

An admirable trait.

The edges of her lips curled up into what people liked to call 'a smile'. Not something usually seen on her face but a rare feat if it were to happen. For any around her, especially Brant, that caught the expression, they should be honored. It left as quickly as it came, washing away the moment he mentioned another mace. She herself didn't even have two axes; all of her dirty work could be easily done with one. Though, now that it was brought to her attention all of a sudden, another ax would definitely come in handy. Georgia traced the outlines of his mace, being careful to rub her fingers over the spokes. She did not dare touch the tips of it. The worst thing to do is to take someone's weapon for granted. Brant might have sharpened the tips one hundred times over! She was hard headed, but smart about it.

"Another mace, huh? I bet it'd be horrible to take here and back home. Just by the way you have to carry this thing. Is it hard trying to avoid bludgering someone's face in when you walk with this?"she asked, not looking over to him once since her smile faded. Instead, her eyes were set heavily on the mace that she lifted, testing its balance and the steel core he told her about.


Her tentativeness went noticed after all! She hoped and prayed and whispered silently to herself that Tobias would notice her anxiety with taking the spear. She did not want to puncture someone in the gut or gouge someone's eye out, for pain seemed to be the first thing Keniz was forever prone to. Glasses or no glasses. A simple stumble in a hallway would heed to very drastic results, as far as someone's leg being twisted under a tossed and strewn nunchuck! That alone made her tiny hands snap back to their original position in her lap. She was also trying to be desperately wary of Rolan Sensei's gaze. His rules specifically called for the exchanging of weapons. Surely he would understand her worry of wielding a lethal weapon with -40 vision!

"Thanks. I really...I just....Bad things happen with me, you know? Heh, you know more than anybody. You know? With the...with this...?"she explained, showing him the scar on her neck. That scar was given to her by Tobias's spear last year in AoA. Kenzi saved herself the entire story, only remembering the important part: She was trying to keep Georgia from swinging her ax at a girl who stepped on her shoe, and when Kenzi reached for her arm, she slipped forward...neck slipping right across Tobias's spear. Half of the hallway inhabitants thought she was dead as she bled on the blank floors of the hallways. In all actuality, if it weren't for Tobias whirling her to the infirmary, she might have!

Kenzi was pulled from her recollective vision at Tobias's inquiry of her shuriken. With a simple nod and a small smile, the star that was flat in her palm was now reached out so that he could grab it as he wished. His compliment was not short coming either, her face being beat with a red marker as soon as he said it. Tobias was always sweet and caring. Kenzi should have remembered that.

"I tried my hardest then like everyone else, but I can't tell you how glad I am to here that. It was hard doing all of that on my first year. I really hope I haven't gotten worse."she chuckled before he asked his next question. Her expression now seemed in a permanent joy for those few minutes, completely forgetting about the fiascoes that ensured previously.

"I toss them either Frisbee wise, horizontally, or ax wise, vertically. Believe it or not, Georgia actually showed me her form on slashing downwards. Throwing a star is harder. You have to let go at the peak of her throw so that the wind can carry it on the direction you're tossing it. For example..."she said, rummaging in her stash for another while she stood up, not caring if anyone else was watching. "If I was throwing it diagonally, like this,"she said, twisting her body in a diagonal pull, "I would through the star right now, so it would travel diagonally after my arm moves."she said, standing and smiling, rubbing her eyes that were burning like crazy from lack of vision.
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Lance let a grim smile cross his lips as Emil asked about the incident. If he didn't know already, it meant he was either a First year or a transfer student. Either way, it meant Lance would be able to witness their first reaction to it. "Without gong into the gory details, it involved a cocky First year, a curb-stomp battle, and some slashed tendons." Without waiting for what he had just said to fully set in, he addressed the second question. "Depends on the situation. With the default 'Grim' stance you hold the handle coming off the pole there with your main hand," he said pointing to a six-inch bar protruding from the pole about a foot below the blade. "Your other hand usually holds the pole near the bottom. If you want the real 'Reaping' stance, though, you need a different scythe. One with another handle at the end, then your hands swap places, main hand on the bottom hand and other on the handle near the blade. You hold the blade low to the ground, like how early scythes were actually used."

Lance could feel his bloodlust kicking in now. He felt the urge to go into details; how the blade sweeps the enemy's feet from under them, leaving them vulnerable on the ground, practically begging for a well-placed swing trough the ribcage and into the soft, weak tissue of the heart and lungs. The sensation of that perfect kill, slipping the blade between the ribs, with practically no resistance at all. Or slashing up into the enemy's armpit when they hold up their arm for a heavy attack, or how they always try to block the pole, only for the blade to hit them anyway, or the sweet, sweet feeling you get with your foot on the enemy's back, pinning them to the ground, with the blade under their throats, just resting against the flesh with the faintest trickle of blood, just one quick pull to end it, to hold their live in the palm of your hand and snuff it out.

But he made no sign that was thinking these things, his face remained impassive. He had nothing if not self-control.
 
Watching her examine his mace, he noticed a change in her face. Was that a smile or something? It had come and gone so fast Brant was unsure what to make of it, however she didn't seem so dismissive any more, he must have made an impression. "It's only hard when I see someone I don't like" he said in answer to her question while avoiding the topic of the second mace "Besides that I have a loop on my belt that holds the mace with the head near my hip and not down by my legs to bash me or anyone else while I'm walking by." With a gesture to her hefty axe he asked his own question "Is it hard for you not to chop someone you don't like?" It was a half joke, partly referring to her eagerness and gusto from breakfast and to the weapons weight itself.

Brant sat back in his chair with his arms crossed over his chest and continued watching her fiddle with his mace, tracing the length of it's shaft and prodding at the head but being wary of it's sharp edge. It seemed like other people were afraid of her, where Brant came from he was treated in a similar way and some part of him enjoyed the fear people felt from him. By looking at her Brant figured she was used to it, and enjoyed it more than he did. He had seen scarier things though, not many but enough.
 
Well here he was, talking to Ireland and now standing there with nothing else to say. He could hear the rest of the class talking loudly. It was easier for them, because they most likely had experience talking to people everyday. Tatsukie looked around the room for a moment. Baldy was still looking at him, but he only smiled. Once again, he huffed, but looked away. What was he going to say to Ireland now? It was such a pain and so pathetic for him. He sighed a little bit. Right after he did, Ireland spoke to him.

He quickly looked at her as she introduced herself fully. That was a great start. He knew her full name at least. He listened to her speak, and then stop for a moment. She pulled out a knife and held it out in front of him, twisting it around in her hand. He could see the clean metal shine under the classroom light. That was really interesting. She had his full attention now. He wanted to try and keep the conversation going.

"I think Ireland is a cool name. My full name is Tatsukie Kitsio." He lifted his shirt a bit, just over the the butt of his pistols and removed them from his belt. He held them in x-formation at an angle outward Ireland's left shoulder. These are my twin pistols. I carry them wherever I go, and I try my best to keep them in top condition." He said, lowering them at his side with a smile. It was like an accomplishment for him. He was able to speak more. Now, he wanted to learn even more about Ireland.

Tatsukie looked at her with a small smile. "So, tell me more about yourself, Ireland."
 
Emil looked at Lance apprehensively as he described the incident, and glanced at his eyes. He could have sworn he saw something to him, but dismissed it as his imagination. He'd never been good with reading people who remained indifferent. It was a nice talent, being able to read people for who they are, even if he wasn't the greatest at it. He looked around the room at the people around him, and then held the scythe the way Lance told him to. He spoke in a somewhat monotone voice to Lance,"Slashed his tendons? ... Pleasant. ... I can't say I've ever done anything quite so brash..."

Only half true. He'd had a reason for assaulting a kid once: the kid had been making fun of his little brother Mike and harassing him. He'd... "Reminded" the kid to not mess with someone unless you're ready to suffer the consequences of your actions. A valuable lesson that most people should learn. As Emil remembered this, a curious look escaped across his face. Quickly regaining his composure, he glanced at Lance and took a note of how calm and composed Lance was. He'd have to remember to get more control over himself.

"Mmm... Scratch that, I have."
 
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Lace straightened up his walk, the only real thing he could do besides listening to the chatter of the halls. The important comments he dared not listen too. Whose cheating on who? So-and-so got caught kissing whom? Stupid gossip he didnt care about. A school for mastering weapons and the gossip of others. Lace suddenly remembered why he wanted to ditch school when he was a kid, one thing he had always wanted to do but never had the courage to look his father in the eye and risk getting a belt to his rear. His eyes scanned the area and studied the girls, how they dressed and how the guys stood up all proud and tried to look manly. He glanced down. Suddenly wanting to go home. His hands in his pockets holding the ring that latched itself on his finger, his white shoes and his snow white pants, he would looked like an angel, if only he had wings to complete himself. The dog tags hung lazily from his chest as the see through button-up shirt showed his glowing red chinese dragon that weaved its way from his left pec to his shoulder. It seemed to be moving for him, as if by some odd coincidence it was alive and keeping his power. He held asimple blank peice of paper and a black Iphone which he shared his life with.

When he searched through the hallways, simply looking for his classroom and his sanctuary from the rush of kids and the unimportant gossip of the students. He had found his class, a simple room with no real value except for teaching, some of the girls went silent as Lace sat down in the far back next to an empty seat which he hoped would empty for the rest of the day. He closed his eyes and rested his mind of all the drama, his mind going calm and serene. This was only a Ruse, he felt like freaking out, he was already getting glares from the class. he wished he was outside practicing with Luna, he missed holding her staff and cleaning her shining blade. Next class he might be able too. He just wanted to be alone, to feel the wind in his hair, smothering his face as he breathed. To feel the heat rush out of a beating heart, the blood staining his pants, turning his dragon a ruby red. He opened his eyes and shook his head, looking at the girls who bore there eyes at him with hatred. he would like to chop them up and watch them bleed, their screams echoing in his head. Luna made him want blood, it was his stupid fathers fault.
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Rolan Sensei looked at the progress everyone was making while the class bubbled on. He walked down the eyes slowly as if he was some sort of stork or other large bird. Behind his glasses, grey pebbles for eyes darted from a face to a weapon, trying to determine how the rest of the year would file out. Last year, he had less problems. Breakfast went smoothly, he didn't have to raise his voice so much and the Second Years (which were now the Elites) didn't laugh at any embarrassing things some of the First Years had done. He did have Georgia still. That was the only handful he had. This year would be even worse, he could tell. For starters, Georgia was still there. On top of that, there was a brawl that happened in the middle of a meal that involved most, if not all, of the students in his current class. It was an omen for the year to come.

His eyes passed over a familiar boy that wore a long, billowing coat with a wooden sword to his side. Geoffery, if he could remember right, was his name. Rolan Sensei had remembered him from two years before. Not the most enthusiastic kid but he had skill when skill was needed. The reason why Rolan Sensei stopped in front of his seat in particular, was because he was dead asleep, feet propped onto the chair of the empty desk in front of him. A vein or two appeared upon his brow, glasses sliding slightly down the bridge of his nose. Now that he thought about it, he hadn't even explained his weapon history at all! It was even a disgrace to Rolan Sensei that he hadn't caught him by then! With a hard rap of his fingers on the desk, Rolan Sensei's voice cut through the middle of everyone else's speeches or small talk.

"Geoffery, get up." The class turned around in there seats to look at the new situation that had arisen. They were always in the mood for some confrontation or excitement. Others were still engrossed into their conversations to even notice Rolan Sensei and Geoffery, who hadn't budged. Teachers don't take lightly to being ignored. This time, Rolan Sensei wrapped his fingers into a fist and slammed it down upon the desk, barely feeling the hard knock in return.

"GEOFFERY. NOW."he snapped. The class had now heard the slamming sound and all eyes were on the two of them centered in the middle of the classroom. He managed to extract a grunt from Geoffery, and that was about it. The kid had opened his eyes and glared when he saw Rolan Sensei in his face. Rolan Sensei's face was steaming with a a pink, annoyed flush, but apparently, Geoffrey didn't care. He only turned around to face his back towards the teacher and attempt to doze back off to sleep. There was a couple of 'oooooohhhh's' that came from the students, that whole childish garb, and Rolan Sensei stood, appalled that he had been ignored so easily.

Before another tick could be heard from the clock above the class door, Rolan grabbed a Taser gun, and pointed directly at the desk, shooting into the hard wood while the gun yielded a crrrraaaaaxxx sound. The electricity hit Geoffery all at once, springing him out of his chair and onto the floor in a groans of pain and shock. Some students laughed. Others gasped. Rolan pointed the gun at his head, his face plastered in seriousness and losing the pink in it.

"I don't know who the hell gave you the right to ignore me in my class just because you didn't get your beddy bye time last night, but here's an order you won't ignore....Get the FUCK out of my classroom." Geoffery was too overwhelmed with pain to even fight back and sprinted out, holding tight to his wooden sword through each of his limps.

Broooooooooooooooop.

"The rest of you can follow suit. You have 10 minutes before S.A.D starts."he announced, turning around as the class packed their stuff, begining to pile out of his room, leaving him wiping his face with his hand and slouching back into his chair, preparing for the next 6 hours.
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Pointing out the injury she had received last year, Kenzi brought back some memories. The accident was never really anybodies fault but Tobias had taken it harshly. Hurting other people was not his goal at AoA. Bettering himself and learning to reach his potential, pushing himself past what he believed to be his limits. Those were his goals. Tobias spent the time between bringing Kenzi to the infirmary to the time she was released being wracked with guilt. What if her wound didn't heal properly, or the cut was deep enough that she would no longer be able to speak? When Kenzi had healed enough to leave the care of the medical staff she showed no ill will towards him and seemed no worse for wear, scar aside. Georgia... well, she had at least not tried to lop his head off with her ax. Whether that was on Kenzi's behest or not he didn't know but he was thankful all the same. He had not thought about that accident for quite a while now. Things simply went back to the way they had been on their own.

It was a relief for Tobias to see that his attempt to have Kenzi teach him some of the technical facts about her weapons was met with a positive reaction. He found it very interesting, the sheer numbers of ways there were to simply throw the various types of weapons. Balance, size, the area of the weapon meant to inflict the most damage to the target. All were taken into account for this kind of basic action. Tobias picked his spear back up off the desk, preparing to return the favor and explain how throwing something asymmetrical like his spear had different mechanics involved. Once she finished, her vision seemed to have started to irritate her eyes.

Tobias did not notice that the ambient noise of most of the students had vanished when he stood up to ask Kenzi how she was doing. Before he got the chance however, the sound of Rolan Sensei shouting at a student caught the room's collective attention. It was over somebody named Geoffrey, a name Tobias recognized but he did not know the guy very well at all. from the looks of things, he had been sleeping in class... for quite some time, too. Tobias could not recall him making a presentation earlier. While most of the class made sounds of intrigue or surprise, Tobias remained quiet, his eyes widening in shock that anybody, even an Elite Year student would so blatantly ignore a teacher. What happened next was far less surprising. Geoffrey was tasered in a heartbeat and berated in front of the student body by an angry Rolan Sensei.

The bell then rang, once again causing a commotion. Rather than leave straight away to get to S.A.D. Tobias remained standing near Kenzi's desk while other students shuffled past him. He handed the shuriken she had allowed him to hold back to her and waited for her to place it back in it's pouch before saying anything.

He opened bluntly, stating his opinion. "You really shouldn't go the rest of the school day in this condition, Kenzi. Are your glasses in a salvageable condition?" He doubted they were, having been stepped on, but he did not get to see just how badly they were damaged and figured he may as well ask. "It's been one class and your eyes are already irritating you." Kenzi obviously already realized this but he didn't think it would hurt to reinforce this point.
 
S.P.A.D... Spars and Duels... Oh Jesus no. Please, somehow, let me have my bonesaw back.
More concerned with the fact his favourite method of dismemberment was unable to be utilised in the next period, Adam paced callously from the classroom, not giving a second thought to the person who could have been his partner in the class he was leaving. He was a dab hand with a scalpel - the ferocity and precision of his cuts, along with the ever-so-slightly frightening lines with which they were delivered, made him quite an unsettling force when wielding sharp object. However, these people had much bigger weapons than him - and it didn't seem as though his attack rate advantage would do much here. Yes, he could slash or stab with greater speed and precision, but it was no use if his foes were able to negate the attacks regardless. He sighed, twirling his switchblade briefly around his right index finger, and then replacing it. This was done partly out of broredom, but mostly as a distraction from thinking how badly he would be beaten.
In the end, he just hoped he was finished quickly.
 
Ryder walked into the skool treading his backpack that hung off his r.sholder, he'd look around seeing as if he knew anything being a a first year he knew it was gonna be hell especially from the "elites", ryder parted his lips and sighed and continued walking down the hallway.
 
Kurt walked into class. Late, of course. His sword was left in his locker, and he came unarmed, it was sparring. Kurt cracked his knuckles. Before he came in, he heard the slamming noise of Rolan probably beating another kid to death. He watched as the others joined inside the room.

"Does anyone here wanna spar, or are you going to wuss out cause' you don't got your weapons?" He had always been a jackass...

... but he was likeable. He just really, really, liked sparring.
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If there was one time of day Lance enjoyed more than the end of the schoolday, it was Sparring and Duels - the one time of day he could use his real weapon on school grounds. After a brief detour to pick up his weapon, he made his way to the dueling grounds.

His weapon, of course, was a scythe. But it was not just a scythe, it was a symbolic weapon that marked him as the next head of the Wolfheim family. The long pole, measuring at seven feet in length, was caved ebony inlaid with intricate silver flourishes. The heavy, double-edged blade was a foot wide where it met the pole, curving down and outward to a point halfway down the length of the pole. A six-inch blade was fixed to the opposite end, just below the lower handles. Etched in black upon the blade was a Celtic pattern depicting his family's symbol; the raven-winged wolf.

Scythe in hand, he entered the room and looked over who was already there. Someone was trying to antagonize some of the others into a fistfight, apparently preferring the sparing part of S.a.D. Lance had always been more fond of the dueling.
 
Ireland had been about to reply when their teacher had screamed and basically.. zapped Geoffery.
She showed no reaction, standing dead still but inside she was seething. She hated the teacher for that, but at the same time it had been the boys own fault.
With an inward chuckle, Ireland mused how interesting this day had been so far and couldn't help but wonder if it woul carry on like this.
S.A.D?
Her ears perked up and she smiled. She turned back to Tatsukie,
"I love S.A.D., don't you?"
She started to walk away and paused, looking back.
"D'you want to walk with me?" she smiled, "I'd love to learn more about your weopans."

(Sorry it's not that good- plus a little short- I don't have much time with revision n' all)
 
It was way easier to talk to her than he had originally thought. She was pretty nice and she wasn't a jerk like all the other Elites. Tatsukie could say that she was more civilized than baldy. Speaking of which, he never did get that guys name. He had guessed that baldy was to stupid to think of a cool introduction. Alright, that was enough about baldy. The sound of a loud mouth was going on about fighting. But, Tatsukie let out a sigh, and then turned his attention back on Ireland. He had no intentions of fighting. He wasn't stupid enough to brawl in the classroom. Nothing was scarier than an angry professor. He was a little embarrassed when Ireland asked him to walk. Though, his face didn't show it.

"Um, sure, Ireland I wouldn't mind." He was a little hesitant about it, but it would still be fun.

(No worries ^_^)


 
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The cape she was draped in was heavy on her shoulders, just the way she liked it. The added weight made it easier for her to move around with zipping from one corner to another. Her speed was everyone's worse enemy, just the way she liked it. For a woman, the added ability was natural. Women were usually the fastest when it came to combat while men picked up the rear with strength. Miss Konome's face dropped when the students began to mass into the SAD room in the back of the school. The faculty extended the time to make it to class due to the fact that SAD was so far from the regular courses, and still, some still managed to come in late. The bell rung again when all of the students managed to pile into the room. Compared to Arms History, it was arguable 3 times bigger, probably due to the lack of seats. The only structures in the room, save for the polished wooden floor, were 5 tall pillars, used to give minor cover. It was a shame that some of the students didn't know of the added perk. Miss Konome's stale face seemed to be the pause of all talk and jittering while the bell died down. As soon as the the class grew quiet, she stood from her tilted position against one of the pillars, watching them all crowd around the door.

"Konome Nitaworu. Do not call me by my full name and don't you dare think of adding 'Miss' in front of my first. Do I look like a miss to you all?"she asked rhetorically. Some of the First Years gulped. Second Years smiled in remembrance of last year. The Elite Years, however, flinched at their many failed attempts of out smarting the woman. Konome let the question sink in before yanking on her gloved hand, taking long steps toward the class.

"For you new sproutlings, welcome to Spars and Duels. This is where most of your medical bills will be arisen from. If you happen to go to the infirmary, you know this building. Let the nice nurse ladies know you were in SAD."she said with no expression. her eyes landed on each and every First Year, recognizing new faces out of the bunch. "Second Years, welcome back. I hope you all have something new to show me since your vacation and hopefully you'll keep the blood inside your bodies where they belong. If not, at least give me a good show."

Kenzi, having gotten her spare pair of glasses from her locker with Tobias, looked down at the ground in embarrassment. SAD wasn't really her forte. It involved arm to arm combat which wasn't something she excelled in. She was way smarter than she was competitive so she cringed when Konome locked a gaze with her. Her blue eyes instantly dropped down and she shifted her weight closer to Tobias who was standing in the middle of her and Georgia. Georgia, on the other hand, had a sly smirk on her lips, ax still held on her shoulder. Some of the class members had to give her space for fear that she might cut them or swing her body in another direction. In all actuality, Georgia didn't pay any attention to her surroundings, so if someone happened to be a tad too close to her when she turned, well, they sealed their own fates.

"Elite Years. This is the last one for you all. Impress me."she said simply. To them, it was the ultimate threat. "First, I want you to separate into your classes. Elites, to the left wing. First Years, stay where you are. Second years, to the right wing. Do whatever is necessary to your weapons before I call you all to spar. You have 10 minutes."she said. Once her lips closed, the students scrambled to their right places, being careful to hold tight to their weapons. Kenzi smiled towards Tobias while the two of them, Georgia, and the other Second Years made their way to the right wing. Georgia slammed the butt of her ax on the ground and locked eyes with Kenzi, Tobias, and Tatsukie.

"We're not going to lose the Class Round today, got that?"she said, her red eyes darting towards the Elite and First Years. "Last year on the first day, the Elites won. Not happening this year."she said. Kenzi looked away from Georgia. Honestly, she wanted nothing to do with her competitive nature. It really didn't matter which calls would win on the first day of school, but there was no telling Georgia that. There was no telling Georgia anything, really.

Meanwhile, Konome returned to her slouched position, black hair resting on the pillar behind her as she waited for all students to prepare themselves. This session was going to prove to be an interesting one.

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Kurt walked over towards the west wing as instructed, striding ruefully as he showed his cool side. Some called it a multiple personality issue, it wasn't the case. He leaned his back against a nearby wall, pulling a steel chain from the satchel he had strung across his body. He began to swing the long chain around by his side, smirking menacingly at the nearby first years. Besides his sword, his chains had been known all around the school, teacher's included. He had sent a many other students to the Infirmary with broken bones and gashes, caused by the occasional hook protruding from the links.

"Yo, Konome, which of the newbies to I get to bully this year?" he smiled, grinding his teeth together.
 
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Anthony walked into the room a little later than everyone else. As he walked into the room he could see the teacher leaning up against a pillar. He slowly walked up to her and handed her his transfer papers proving that he had just gotten here. "Uh Nitaworu right? I'm Anthony. I just transferred in and was sent here. So this is the uhhhh.... Sparring and dueling room yes? And uh where do i group up? This would be my second year at the sister school so i guess ill be picking up from the same year." Anthony was a little nervous and off-put being pulled into a whole new school with unfamiliar faces but he wasn't trying to let it show too much other than to the teacher who was supposed to be there to help. Regardless of her answer he looked around at all the others around him and saw a few people who stood out more. One had a spear and had a cute girl with glasses hiding behind him, he thought maybe she was his girlfriend, what a shame. There was a particularly loud girl with red hair and a menacing ax at her side. The next person he could see that caught his attention was someone who had two guns hanging from his hips and was talking to an elite but himself didn't look anything like an elite. As he was going to look around for others that stood out he heard a cough from the instructor and turned his attention back to her.
 
Brant leaned out of the way of Georgia's axe before he lost his nose or some other piece of his face and then proceeded to stay where he was in the first year group. This apparently was going to be the first SaD class of the year, Brant was slightly anxious. Looking down at his mace he realized that he didn't have a whole lot of experience with it and hoped that his skill in other areas would make up for it until he became fully used to the weapon. Hefting both the shield and the mace, they were both quite heavy but he did feel reasonably confident in his ability to use them.

So for now, Brant would do some stretches until it was game time.
 
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